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Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 18
The sun was already dipping low behind the rooftops, painting the sky in these crazy shades of orange and pink. It should’ve been one of those chill, Instagram-worthy evenings. But of course, things were never that simple.Beverly walked beside her mom, Margaret, trying not to roll her eyes too hard. They’d just left some stuffy charity luncheon where old people talked about "bettering the city" while sipping overpriced tea and pretending they cared. Now, Margaret was back on her usual drama.“The city’s falling apart,” she complained, heels clicking sharply against the sidewalk. “Too many thugs, not enough law. And don’t even get me started on that ridiculous Mad Tiger vigilante garbage. He’s probably just a myth some people made up to feel better.”Beverly didn’t answer. Her head was full—mostly of memories she wished she could forget. Like the last time she saw Davion. That weird tension. The way he looked at her like he knew something she didn’t. Ugh.“And you, Beverly,” Margaret
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 19
For like, half a second, the city actually felt normal.People weren’t whispering about Mad Tiger anymore. His name stopped trending. The streets? Not exactly peaceful, but way less intense. Cafés opened their doors again. Families started taking evening walks. Laughter didn’t sound like a crime. It felt like maybe, just maybe, the city could finally breathe again.It was like the calm after the storm and everyone was going about their daily life's without fear of an attack.But cities like this don’t get happy endings.Not for long.It happened all at once. There was no countdown. No eerie music. Just this sharp, high-pitched beep that hijacked every screen in the city. Phones buzzed in people’s pockets. TVs flickered on and off. Digital billboards glitched out mid-advertisement. Even the massive screen in Times Square-style downtown cut to black.Then it came.The livestream.No filters. No edits. Just real, raw horror.Councilor Graves, one of the city’s top security officials, sat
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 20
The smell of smoke and ash still lingered in the air, thick and bitter like regret. Even though the fire trucks had come and gone, and the flames had been out for hours, the devastation still pulsed in the air like a fresh wound. Twisted metal, cracked pavement, scorched concrete. People whispered more than they spoke, as if the destruction might hear them and come back to finish the job.Irene stood with her arms crossed, her badge clipped tight to her jacket and her jaw clenched even tighter. Her boots crunched over broken glass as she made her way through the ruins of what used to be a corner deli. A witness—a scruffy teenage boy with soot smeared on his cheeks—stood in front of her, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else."Kid, I'm going to ask you one more time," she said, her voice sharp and no-nonsense. "You saw what?"The boy shifted on his feet. "I told you already. Right before the blast, I saw someone. It was a figure. Not clear, like...like shadows. But it was tall and
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 21
Davion could be dreaming.Or maybe he was sinking.It felt like being dragged underwater with chains wrapped around his chest, pulling tighter with every second. Everything was murky and slow. Distant. Voices echoed from far away. Familiar ones. Ones he hadn’t heard in years.Then he was there again.Standing in the rain.His shoes were soaked through, the soles nearly falling off. His hoodie was thin and smelled like dirt and old smoke. Beside him, a man coughed—a deep, awful sound that made his whole body shudder.His dad.They were begging. Again. Outside a bakery that had just thrown out a pile of stale bread like trash.“Please,” his father whispered, voice scratchy and weak. “Just for my son.”People sped up. No one looked. Like Davion and his dad were ghosts. Invisible.Davion remembered the ache. Not just in his stomach, but in his chest too. A kind of hollow feeling that told you the world didn’t care if you vanished.And then—Wesley.A beat-up truck screeched to a stop in fr
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 22
The city hadn’t healed from the bombing.Ash clung to rooftops like snow that had forgotten how to melt. Storefronts were boarded up, windows taped with giant Xs, and the air still carried a metallic taste—gunpowder, smoke, and fear. The streets weren’t just quiet.They were expecting something.In a flickering security feed deep in a building no one had used in years, a figure stepped into frame.Long black coat. Combat boots. Hood up. Head tilted slightly like he was listening to a song only he could hear.He moved like a rumor—silent, smooth, and absolutely sure of where he was going.This wasn’t someone passing through.He was here with intention.“Target city perimeter secured,” a voice crackled in his earpiece. Female, monotone. AI. “Heat signatures reduced to minimal. Civilian activity within expected pattern.”The figure didn’t respond.He stepped through the rusted double doors of the old shipping plant, where Iron Hand had set up a temporary base. A sensor scanned him as he
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 23
The sky was dark, split by thin streaks of lightning in the distance. Rain hadn’t started yet, but the air was thick—like the city was holding its breath.The old train yard was empty, rusted tracks stretching out like scars across the concrete. Crates and broken-down cars sat forgotten, blanketed in shadows. Somewhere, a metal sheet clanged in the wind.And in the middle of it all stood Davion.Black hoodie. Gloves. Face hidden in the shadow of his hood. Still as a statue.Then came the sound.Boots.Click. Click. Click.Irene emerged from the far side, trench coat flapping like wings behind her, her badge flashing under the moonlight. Gun drawn, aimed straight at him.“I don’t miss, you know,” she said, voice cold and sharp. “So don’t do anything stupid.”Davion didn’t even blink.“I figured it was you,” he said quietly.“You’ve been ghosting me for three weeks,” Irene snapped. “Tailing your trail of wreckage, broken arms, and anonymous tip-offs. You’ve been very busy for someone wh
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 24
Word travels fast in the underground.One whisper becomes ten, ten becomes a hundred. Then it’s a wildfire—sweeping through the city’s shadows like gasoline meeting flame.It started with a video.Grainy, low-res, but calculated. Leaked on private forums, underground message boards, and dark web markets hidden behind layers of encryption. At first, it looked like any other low-level contract. Until people clicked play.The screen flickered. Then static.A distorted voice came through—masculine, but warped by a voice modulator. Mechanical. Robotic. No emotion.A single symbol flashed across the screen: a red circle broken by a jagged line. No one recognized it. But it felt like a warning.Then the message:> “Subject: Codename Davion. Target is active in Sector 9, possibly working solo. Threat level: extreme. Objective: terminate with proof. Reward: fifty million crypto. Untraceable. First come, first paid.”No name. No contact info. Just a cold, blank screen and numbers that made jaws
Loser Man Returns As God Of War Chapter 25
Davion knew something was off the moment he stepped out of the ramen shop.Too quiet.The street, normally alive with late-night drunks and neon lights, felt frozen. A soft breeze blew past him, but it carried tension instead of chill.He adjusted the hood of his jacket, eyes darting left and right. The scent of soy sauce clung to him, but underneath it, he caught something sharper—gun oil.He wasn’t alone.He kept walking, casually at first, like he was just a regular guy heading home. But his mind was racing. Two shadows moved on his left, lingering too long by a vending machine. A third flickered in a window reflection ahead."You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.Davion turned down an alley.Bad move.Three figures stepped out behind him. One was a woman with a scar across her face, holding twin daggers. Another held a rifle with a suppressor attached. The third, a tall guy with a metal jaw, cracked his knuckles like it was a warm-up."Davion," the woman said
Latest Chapter
Chapter 45
The room was dark, lit only by the flickering light of a dying candle. Davion lay on the mattress, his breathing shallow. His side still throbbed from the last encounter, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Beverly sat beside him, her back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes barely staying open."You should sleep," Davion murmured, eyes closed."Not a chance," Beverly replied. "You're half-dead and we’ve got enemies crawling out of the shadows every five minutes."Davion smirked. "You’re getting better at this whole 'paranoid protector' thing.""Shut up and rest."There was a pause. The only sound was the wind hissing outside like it had a personal vendetta. It slapped the windows with thin branches, trying to claw its way inside.Inside, everything was still—until it wasn’t.A faint creak echoed through the hallway.Beverly's eyes snapped open. "Did you hear that?"Davion opened one eye slowly. "Yeah. Not the wind."The door exploded inward with a loud BANG."DOWN!" Davion shoute
Chapter 44
The night sky was cloudy, like even the moon didn’t want to see what was coming. Rain threatened but never fell, and everything in the city felt like it was holding its breath.Davion sat stiffly on the worn couch in Beverly’s small apartment, one arm slung around her shoulders more for balance than affection. He was still injured, his ribs screaming every time he shifted. Beverly had wrapped them herself, but she still watched him like he might collapse at any second.“You should be in bed,” she muttered.“Bed's boring,” Davion replied, his tone flat. “And too soft.”She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder and flipped through the TV channels, even though neither of them was really watching.There was a knock at the door. Sharp. Quick. Familiar.Davion tensed.Beverly got up first, crossing the room and checking the peephole.“It’s my dad,” she said, frowning.She opened the door, and there he was: Wesley, coat wet from the misty air, ey
Chapter 43
The bar was still tense. No one moved. No one spoke. The air was thick like smoke after a fire. Mad Tiger stood dead center, a monster in human form, breathing like he’d just come off a battlefield. His hand still stained from where he’d gripped Tristan like a ragdoll. And Tristan? He was still a mess on the floor, shaking, his pride in pieces, his shirt wet from tears and spilled whiskey.Then it happened.The bar doors creaked open.CREEEAAAK.Every head turned.And in walked Davion.He didn’t storm in like a hero. He didn’t pose or flex. He just stepped into the room like the storm itself had arrived, calm but deadly, like a fuse waiting to be lit.He had his arm slung over Beverly’s shoulders for support. His shirt was wrinkled, stained with sweat and blood from old wounds that still hadn't fully healed. But his eyes? Those cold silver eyes didn’t show weakness. They showed warning.Mad Tiger stiffened.His nostrils flared.His lips curled into something between a snarl and a grin
CHAPTER 42
The bar was still drowning in silence. Everyone had seen it. The way Mad Tiger stormed in, the way he manhandled Tristan like a sack of garbage, and the way he called him out in front of every lowlife in the room.But it wasn’t over.Mad Tiger stopped mid-stride, his broad shoulders still heaving from the fury bubbling under his skin. The lights overhead flickered as if the very room could sense something more violent was about to come.He turned around.Slowly.Deliberately.Tristan, still crumpled on the sticky bar floor, flinched when Mad Tiger’s eyes met his again. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Just a dry, pathetic squeak.“Not so fast,” Mad Tiger growled, his voice dark and dangerous. He cracked his knuckles as he walked back toward the crowd of onlookers, who all stepped away like a curtain parting for a monster.Tristan tried to scramble to his feet, but he slipped on a puddle of spilled beer and fell on his butt again. “P-please, I didn’t mean anything—!”B
Chapter 41
The dimly lit hole in the wall, the kind of place where the smell of stale beer and sweat hung in the air like a thick fog. The walls were lined with old wooden panels, cracked and worn down by years of use. Neon signs flickered above the bar, casting a faint glow over the shady characters scattered around the room. Mercenaries, lowlifes, criminals—this was their kind of place.Mad Tiger stood at the entrance, his muscles tense under his faded leather jacket. The sound of muffled laughter, clinking glasses, and harsh voices hit him like a wall as soon as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room, his instincts always on high alert. He’d been through hell, and he wasn’t about to let his guard down now. But something caught his attention immediately—something familiar.A voice.Loud. Confident. The kind of voice that made people listen even if they didn’t want to.Mad Tiger’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze moved toward the source. There, sitting at a rickety table surrounded by a group
Chapter 40
The lights in the underground facility flickered, casting eerie shadows on the cold concrete walls. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and stale sweat, a mixture that seemed to hang in the air of the high-security prison where Mad Tiger had been kept for months. They called him Mad Tiger for a reason—he was dangerous, unhinged, and relentless.And right now, he was pretending to be unconscious.Lying motionless on the hard steel table, he could hear the footsteps of the guards echoing through the hall. He had trained himself to endure the pain, to lay still when needed. The past few days had been hell. He’d been tortured, drugged, and monitored, all in the name of "containment." But now, now it was time to make them regret ever underestimating him.Mad Tiger’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he pressed the back of his teeth together. Hidden within one of his molars was a small device—a tooth-triggered chemical surge. It had been planted in him years ago, back when he was
Chapter 39
Beverly paced the small, dimly lit room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The door was locked, the windows barred, and still, her mind raced with questions. What was happening? Why were people after Davion? And why did she feel like this was only the beginning of something far worse?Davion was sitting on the couch, a wet towel pressed against his forehead. He looked drained, but at least he was awake, his eyes sharp as they scanned the room. Beverly couldn’t help but notice the way his movements were so careful, like he didn’t want to show any sign of weakness."Are you feeling any better?" she asked, trying to break the tension that hung between them.He gave a slight nod, then winced as if the motion hurt. "I’ve had worse.""That’s not exactly reassuring," she muttered, turning to grab a glass of water from the counter. As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed, and she quickly pulled her hand back. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care. Either way, it d
Chapter 38
Beverly’s eyes flicked to the door as she wiped the blood off her hands. Davion was still passed out on the couch, barely stirring, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The storm outside had gotten worse, and the low rumble of thunder only made the weight of the night heavier. Her mind raced, processing the new information she’d learned—someone was after Davion, and they were willing to destroy the entire city to get to him.Her fingers drummed nervously on the workbench as she considered her next move. This wasn’t just about a bounty anymore. Whoever was after Davion had more power than she could have ever imagined, and she was stuck in the middle of it all.Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A slight vibration shook the floor. Someone was close. Very close.Without a second thought, Beverly’s hand flew to the knife she kept hidden beneath her jacket, her instincts sharp. The sound of heavy boots hitting the ground outside sent a jolt of adrenaline th
Chapter 37
Reika sat on the cold floor of the safehouse, back against the concrete wall, knees drawn to her chest. The dim light from the cracked overhead bulb flickered, throwing shadows across the gray room. Her sword leaned against the wall beside her, still stained with Davion's blood. She hadn't cleaned it. She couldn't.Her fingers trembled slightly as she stared at the crimson smears. She hadn't meant to go that far. She was supposed to incapacitate him, not... not nearly kill him. But the moment had gotten away from her, and the rage—no, the fear—had taken over. And yet, she’d seen it in his eyes. He didn’t fight back. Not really.He still trusted her.Reika closed her eyes and exhaled. "Stupid," she muttered. "So, so stupid."The safehouse door creaked open. Her eyes snapped open, hand flying to the hilt of her blade out of instinct. But the figure who entered wasn’t a threat. At least, not physically.He was tall, wearing a long dark coat and a silver mask that covered everything excep
